


my native optimism (isn't broken by the light)

by nolightss



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, post rehearsal-feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25063111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolightss/pseuds/nolightss
Summary: being promoted isn't easy.
Relationships: Aether | Quintessence Ghoul/Dewdrop Ghoul | Fire Ghoul
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	my native optimism (isn't broken by the light)

**Author's Note:**

> aether pov.

It's dark in your room. Moonlight peers through the curtains, watching you lay on your back and stare at the ceiling. You look at the clock beside your bed. It’s been an hour since rehearsal ended. Dewdrop has been talking to the Cardinal for an hour, and an odd feeling sits in your gut. 

You're out and down the hall, now, and the moon follows you, watches through the windows as you turn down the stairwell, and watches you stop on the landing. Dewdrop startles when he sees you, the dark circles under his eyes heavy and bruised-looking. He softens when he realizes it's you.

"Are you alright?" you ask. "Did the meeting with the Cardinal go well?"

You've barely finished when Dewdrop leans into you heavily, almost crumbling against your chest. You lower him down to sit on the steps, and you hold him. Dewdrop doesn't cry, he just sits there in your hold, shoulders tight, as if trying to make himself even smaller than he already is. 

You pet his hair. The moon is still watching. From somewhere on the grounds of the Abbey, an owl calls. You tuck his hair behind a pointed ear.

"Let's go back to my room, yeah?" you suggest. "Gonna be honest with you, my ass hurts."

Dewdrop lets out the tiniest laugh, one you feel more than you hear. He mumbles something against your chest.

"Come again?"

"Oh, I'll make your ass hurt," Dewdrop says, turning his face to press into the crook of your elbow. You snort, and haul him to his feet.

He's quiet on the walk back to your room, holding your hand loosely but otherwise not betraying much. He just looks tired. 

You get into bed alongside him, and watch him brush his hair. He keeps that brush in your nightstand. It's an old metal one, with a shiny silver back etched with flowers. The moonlight reflects off the back as he works through his long hair. 

"You're staring," Dewdrop says. You nod, and continue watching. When he's finished, he reaches over and tucks the brush back into the drawer. He pulls off his shirt and pants, tossing them unceremoniously beside the bed, and crawls into the space next to you. You tuck an arm around him, and resume petting his hair.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" you ask. 

Dewdrop tucks his head under your chin. 

"No," he says. His breath tickles your neck. He fidgets. You pet his hair. The moon watches.

"It's just--", Dewdrop starts. He pauses for a long moment. You give him time. “I'm not used to being so... in the spotlight," he says. "I keep fucking up."

"I mean, it's not easy," you tell him. "And it's only been, what, two weeks? A broken string isn’t even a  _ fuckup  _ anyways." Dewdrop half-shrugs. "You’ve got to give yourself a bit of slack, love."

"But Copia's not giving me any slack either!" he says forcefully. 

You run a finger down the side of one of his horns. "He's got a lot to prove, don't you think? Wouldn't be surprised if the stress was getting to him," you say. Dewdrop sighs. 

"I know that you're right, but I think I just want to be mad," he says, peering up at you. You laugh despite yourself. 

"Suit yourself, I suppose." 

You lay in silence for a while. The moon slinks behind a tree, and the room darkens further. You breathe. Then, Dewdrop rolls over, away from you, and drags your arm around his torso. You pull him tight against your chest, and he loosens in your arms. 

You tuck your nose against his hair, smelling soot and greenery and wet stone. The room feels so small, all of the sudden, and the Abbey feels so far away. 

"Thanks for staying up for me," Dewdrop says. It's so quiet, barely above a whisper, that you almost don't catch it. 

"Don't make me repeat it," he says quickly. You smile against his hair. 

"Just this once, I won't."

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written in like, a year. this was nice though!
> 
> title from pusher by alt-j.
> 
> find me on tumblr! @[monstranceclock](http://monstranceclock.tumblr.com/).


End file.
